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Alistair

Author: Anna Wynter
last update Huling Na-update: 2025-03-21 21:10:56
~ ALISTAIR ~

Mondays suck.

The weekend was trash, but it flew by fast. One blink, and it’s already Monday again. I drag myself out of bed, trying not to think about how much I’d rather just sleep through the whole week. I throw on a white shirt and black tie, then pair them with a blue jeans jacket and matching pants. Sneakers laced up. Car key in my hand. I’m out.

It’s 7:45— early as hell for me. I guess no one’s forcing breakfast down my throat today, which is a damn relief. I trace my fingers along the railing as I head downstairs, but I stop dead when I spot Asher on the long sofa. Eighty-inch TV, game console in hand. Must be nice to sit around and do nothing.

If that were me, I’d get mocked to hell and back. I can almost hear that voice whispering in my head.

You can’t read, but you wanna play?

Yeah. Screw you too.

I’m almost at the door when his voice cuts through the room.

“Hey, good morning.”

I glance back at him over my shoulder, raising a brow. He’s got that blank,
Anna Wynter

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  • PLAYING THE PLAYER (M×M)   Alistair

    ~ ALISTAIR ~I feel… weirdly calm.Not in the peaceful, zen kind of way. More like the numb kind. Like the part of me that’s usually screaming has finally shut up for a second, and now the silence is somehow louder.The mansion is cold when I step inside. Lights too white. Marble too clean. I walk in without a word, don’t even glance toward the lounge where I know he’s probably sitting with a drink and disappointment.He doesn’t say anything either.Good.I’m not sure what I’d do if he did. Maybe throw something or crumble.Instead, I take the stairs two at a time and head straight for my room. My hoodie still smells like sweat and regret and him, and my mouth still feels like him.God, Calvin.I touch my lips before I even realize I’m doing it, then yank my hand away like I caught fire. Which is ironic, because that’s what it felt like a couple hours ago—burning from the inside out.He touched me like I mattered.Held me like I wasn’t too much.And I let him.I don’t even know what t

  • PLAYING THE PLAYER (M×M)   Calvin

    ~ CALVIN ~ His voice is soft. Too soft. Like he'll back out any moment from now. I don’t move. For a second, I just stare at him—at the sheen of sweat across his jaw, the unspoken ache in his eyes, the way his lips part like he’s bracing for rejection but hoping I’ll be cruel enough to give in. “Alistair…” I whisper, my voice too hoarse, too tender. No, I don't do tender. “I need…” he begins, then stops himself. Swallows. Looks away like the moment’s gotten too big for his ego. But I don’t let him retreat. I close the final inch between us. My hand slides up his chest, past his racing heart, and finds the side of his neck. “You sure?” I ask, thumb brushing his jaw. He nods. Once. Tightly. “Yeah, I gue—” And so I kiss him. Not gentle. Not brutal. Just… desperate. His mouth is hot, frantic against mine, like he’s trying to inhale me, like he wants to carve the taste of me into the grief that’s gutting him. He fists my jacket, pulling me closer, and I let him. Let him set th

  • PLAYING THE PLAYER (M×M)   Calvin

    ~ CALVIN ~My phone buzzes once. Then again.I’m lying on my back, textbook splayed across my chest, eyes unfocused on the ceiling.I don’t even realize I’ve stopped reading until the second buzz pulls me out of my haze.Bastard: Meet me. Please.And below that—Bastard: I don’t wanna be alone right now.I sit up slowly, the weight of the words hitting me harder than I expected.He doesn’t say much.Never has.But when he does… it’s either to piss me off or pull my soul out of me without even trying.This—this isn’t that Alistair.This is the one he keeps buried beneath arrogance and adrenaline.Maybe it's a prank.The Alistair I know has pride and ego as big as the globe.So, I shrug it off and pick my book again, trying so hard but failing to focus.Some minutes later, my phone buzzes again.Location shared.Huh? He's actually… serious?I stare at it for a second longer than I should. I know this place. Two streets away, the outdoor gym plus playing ground.I grab my jacket and don’

  • PLAYING THE PLAYER (M×M)   Alistair

    ~ ALISTAIR ~ It’s deathly silent.No one speaks. No one looks at me.Cleats hit the hallway tile like gunshots. Sweat and regret cling to my skin, heavier than the jersey stuck to my back. The sting in my throat isn't from the sun or the run—it’s from the silence. And something else.The kind that says everything.I walk with the team toward the locker room, but I feel like I’m walking toward execution.And I deserve it.Gunner's the first to move.He growls, eyes flaring as he slams me hard into the locker the second we’re inside. The metal crashes behind my back, loud and final, and then his fists are on me. One, two, three—rage, bone, muscle.I don’t fight back.I let him hit me. Let his fury paint across my cheek and split my lip.Because it’s easier than breathing.Because he’s not wrong.Because I missed that shot.Because I cost us the game.Because that penalty was supposed to be my redemption. My ticket out.A knuckle slices into my brow. My head knocks back against steel. T

  • PLAYING THE PLAYER (M×M)   36. Calvin

    ~ CALVIN ~ I wasn't supposed to be here. I mean that literally. I had an assignment due, a pile of notes to review. And give sleeping another shot since I haven't been having enough these days. But here I am. The bleachers were packed, loud with cheers and the occasional boo of screaming idiots. The soccer field is alive with energy. It's the second half of the game against Veritas university. I told myself I just needed air. A walk. Something to clear my head. Somehow, that walk led me here. And somehow, my eyes found him. Alistair Morano, number 7, black jersey clinging to his frame, hair slicked back with sweat. He looked like sin dipped in sunlight, sharp jaw set in frustration as he screams something I couldn't even hear through the loud boos to his teammates. I watch as a guy from the Veritas team strikes the ball toward Aurum goalpost, the ball slipping past the keeper and into the net. The crowd with the yellow flag erupts into loud cheers. “Da. mi. Kay! Da. mi. Kay

  • PLAYING THE PLAYER (M×M)   Alistair

    ~ ALISTAIR ~I don't go to class.I know Ray would be pissed—probably yap my ear off once he realized the seat he saved for me would stay empty.Instead, I head toward the faculty library.Don’t ask me why.I can’t read in there. The fonts in the textbooks are too damn small. The words blur together like ants on crack.So I just sat there.Staring into nothing.Replaying that scene over and over in my head until it all blurs into white noise.Then, I must’ve passed out. Thirty-two minutes later, I woke up with a stiff neck and a decision.I’d had enough.I grab my backpack and trudge out, the sunlight slicing through my thoughts as I head to the parking lot. Blast music at full volume the whole ride home, hoping to drown the noise in my head.Home is empty.And I don’t mean no-family-empty. I mean clinically sterile.The only signs of life were the patrol guards sweating in tailored suits, their sunglasses probably like mirrors hiding judgments they didn’t dare voice.I respond to the

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